


mycelium grounds

by shr000m



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:21:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shr000m/pseuds/shr000m
Summary: “how about you get in the hole, tommy?”explosions.pain.then tommy wakes up sprawled on mycelium ground, in a server where wars aren’t normal, and wings are common.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 460





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy  
> -clem

“Why don’t you get in the hole, Tommy?”

There was a scream, and burning pain, before Tommy woke up. Wait.  
No, he didn’t wake up. That wasn’t the right word. 

He carefully got to his feet, surveying the world around him. 

It definitely wasn’t the DreamSMP. That was for sure. The ground was mycelium, and he’d never even come across a biome like that at home. He glanced around, seeing different buildings.  
There was a wooden sword lying discarded on the ground next to him. He picked it up.

He could see somebody falling from the sky in the distance. No - they weren’t falling. He looked closer.  
Feathery wings spread from their back, beating in the wind, and - they were flying towards him.

Tommy stumbled back, starting to run in the opposite direction. His heart was pounding, and all he could think about was the surely impending danger.  
The wing beats were growing closer, no matter how fast he ran, and before long, a hand grasped his shoulder and he wrenched it off, stumbling to the ground and scrambling back in an effort to escape the winged man before him.  
“Are you okay?”

Tommy wrenched out the sword and brandished it out in front of him. “Stay - stay the fuck away from me.”  
The man winced a little, before whispering something to himself. “Chat - shut up, he might be used to cussing. Or - something.”

Tommy scrambled away even further, only now realising he was backed into a corner. “W-what the fuck was t-th-that.”

“You don’t have Chat?” the man asked, looking concerned.  
Tommy raised the sword up, pointing it at the man. “Get away from me.”

-  
“I hear voices.” Technoblade said quietly. “They’re called Chat.”  
“What do they say?” Tommy asked.  
“They beg for blood. Violence. It’s why it’s so hard for me to stay a pacifist.”  
-

“Are you okay? I didn’t realise there was a new person on the server.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t realise either. Get away.” Tommy said hoarsely.

The person clearly didn’t want Tommy to hurt them, and was trying to be nice, but all Tommy could think about was his Chat.

“I’m trying to be nice.” the person said, looking anxious.  
“You have a Chat! Get away from me!” Tommy screamed, his grip on the wooden sword tensing as he started to tremble.

Another figure flew towards them from the horizon, landing next to the person. Their wings were different, though. They looked mechanical, unlike the feathers that spread from the first person’s shoulder blades.  
“Grian!” the second person greeted. “Who’s this?”  
The first guy - Grian? - looked back and smiled. “Mumbo! I don’t know. He’s clearly new here but I don’t know how. He got scared when I mentioned Chat.”

Tommy rapidly switched between pointing the sword between each of them. Full fucking netherite?? And he had a wooden sword. He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to-

“Kid?” the second guy - what was his name?? Tommy was sure Grian had said it - asked. “Can you put the sword down?” 

Tommy didn’t put the sword down, his hands shaking. The second guy sighed, but obviously knew he couldn’t do any harm to him or Grian, and didn’t push it. 

“What’s your home server?” 

don’t send me back don’t send me back don’t send me back don’t send me back-

“The DreamSMP.” 

The guy smiled. “I’ve heard of Dream. Well, that’s perfect. We just have to figure out how to get you back. What’s your name?”

Tommy was silent, his gaze switching between the two. Grian was probably more dangerous, if he had a Chat, but he knew nothing about either of them. “Why are you talking about having a Chat like it’s a good thing?” he asked, his eyes glued onto Grian. 

“Is it not?” Grian asked.  
“Of course it isn’t!” Tommy burst out.  
“Why?” the other guy asked. “Did you know someone bad who had one?” 

if you want to be a hero, tommy?  
nOno no NO NO nonononono NO  
that’s fine.  
NO NO NO STOP PLEASE NO  
if you want to be a hero, tommy?  
DONT DO THIS TECHNO  
then die like one. 

“My brother.” Tommy said flatly. “His Chat demands blood and nothing else. After my other brother blew it up, Tec-he spawned Withers. Two of them.”

For a split second, he saw the second guy’s eyes widen. He better not have recognised Techno’s name.  
“Well, most chats aren’t like that, Tommy.” Grian said. 

There was a pause.  
“Why do you have wings?” Tommy asked warily.  
“I’m a parrot hybrid.” Grian said cheerfully.  
“And?” Tommy replied, exasperated. “That still doesn’t explain how you have wings. I’ve only ever known one avian hybrid with wings, and-“ 

He cut himself off, his heart racing. 

“Well, most if not all avian hybrids have wings.” Grian explained. “Due to oppression, we usually don’t show them in public, though. The only avian hybrid I’ve ever known of that shows them all the time is Philza Minecraft.”

... what if the other guy saw how he froze when his father’s name was mentioned?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw:  
> nightmares/night terrors   
> implied abuse   
> war

The nightmares started the same night Tommy slept on the new server.

Grian had offered to set up a bed in his castle, and Tommy agreed, knowing if he didn’t accept everything he got offered he’d probably end up alone.  
He didn’t want to be alone again. 

***

Grian woke up to the sounds of crying. It was definitely coming from the spare room he’d set Tommy up in. He didn’t want to invade his privacy. But. 

Treading softly in the corridor, he came to a stop outside the door and listened to the sobbing. It seemed Tommy was still asleep. A nightmare?

“Dream-Dream please don’t, I swear I’ll listen to you next time, please don’t blow it up, please I-“ the boy cut himself off with a sob. 

Grian tore his ear from the keyhole. 

Oh my gosh.  
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh oh my gosh.

The happy, joking man he had met at Hypixel only a few years ago couldn’t have instilled this much fear in someone.  
Tommy was just a child. 

And Dream wasn’t who he said he was.

***

Tommy started screaming five minutes later. Grian was done with respecting privacy. What if he was hurt? 

When he entered the room, Tommy was flailing around, screaming phrases and words and straight up gibberish, half-tangled in the sheets. 

‘Techno, no!”  
‘NO!’  
‘Wilbur please don’t!’  
‘Please don’t blow it up-‘  
‘STOP, PLEASE!’  
‘DREAM!’  
were among what he screamed.  
And Grian recognised the names.

He tried to remember who they were as he woke Tommy up and made the terrified boy hot chocolate. 

Techno. Technoblade? He remembered him from Hypixel, and MCC, and many other servers from the past. Headlines, too. He was one of the most talented PVPers in the world. He had a history of anarchy, and was the founder of the Antarctic Empire before he became an anarchist.   
The news hadn’t heard from him in a few years, apart from that he was living with his father, Phil, in the newly founded Antarctic Commune.

Then there was ‘Wilbur’. He could recall several people by heart who went by the name, but if Tommy knew Technoblade, his best guess was the anarchist’s brother.   
Wilbur Soot had died after blowing up the nation he founded. Not much detail was known to the press, but it was well known he had gone insane soon before blowing it up, and his father had reluctantly killed him.

And Grian had heard the name Tommy somewhere before.   
He just didn’t know where.

Grian finished stirring the powder into the milk, and added some cream and marshmallows. Nobody on the server really expected him to have food like that, but he knew they could all agree hot chocolate was good after a nightmare.

“Do you want a straw?” he asked.

Tommy didn’t answer for a few seconds, before mumbling a yes. Grian slid a metal straw into the mug and placed it gently on the table in front of him.   
The clink it made was quiet, but Tommy still flinched at it. 

“Are you okay?” Grian asked quietly.  
Tommy was silent.   
“What did you dream about?”

Tommy flinched at the word ‘dream’, Grian only realising his mistake too late.  
There was another pause.

“How many lives do you have on this server?” he murmured.   
Grian looked at him, confused. “It’s not a hardcore server.” he said.  
“I know.” Tommy mumbled. “How many lives?”

An uneasy feeling settled in Grian’s throat. “How many lives did you get back home?”

“Three. I’m on my last one.” 

Grian jerked his head up to stare at the boy. “How?! You’re only-“  
“Sixteen.” Tommy finished for him. 

There was a silence.

“My server isn’t as peaceful as yours, Grian.” 

“How did you lose them?” Grian whispered.  
Tommy was silent.   
“How did you lose them?” Grian repeated. 

“The first time, I was fifteen. My brother had started a country. We fought for independence.”  
Tommy stiffened. “There was a traitor. We all lost a life that day.”

“How did you lose the second one?” 

“A duel. I still have the scar from the arrow.” 

Grian looked down at Tommy’s arms. “Why do you have so many bandages?” he asked.  
“I have ‘so many injuries.’” Tommy replied with a hint of sarcasm.   
“They look like they need to be changed, Tommy.” 

Tommy was quiet, face unreadable.

“I have a first aid kit upstairs. I can change them.” Grian says encouragingly, as Tommy has now finished his hot chocolate, and he offers his hand.

Tommy does not take it, and Grian does not expect him to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> self harm   
> injuries  
> panic attacks   
> flashbacks

Tommy bit back shaking breaths as the bandages were unwrapped from his arms.   
They were soaked with blood, and clearly somewhat hurt to take off, but Grian knew how much better it would be when the wounds were treated.

He scanned his eyes over Tommy’s arms. Bruises. A lot of bruises. Scrapes and grazes, where skin had been ripped away. There was something that worried him more, though.  
Perfectly straight, shallow, uniform lines. 

Cuts. 

And Grian didn’t want to assume. But self inflicted or not, this wasn’t a good thing. At all.

***

The first night Tommy slept with no nightmares was a week and a half in. Grian smiled when Tommy woke up in the morning looking proud.

The flinching didn’t get any better. 

***

“Hey, Tommy, can I borrow your pickaxe?” Grian called from down the mine. “Mine just ran out.”   
“Sure!” Tommy called down.  
“No need to go down the ladder, just drop it down. I’ll catch it.”   
There was a pause.

“What’d you say?” Tommy yelled down, starting to climb down the ladder.  
He’d already gotten down to Grian at that point.

“I was gonna say just drop it down the hole but-“ 

Tommy paled drastically, freezing in place. “You were going to say what?”

“‘Drop it down the hole’.” Grian specified.

Tommy blinked, and rubbed his eyes before looking back at Grian.   
He stepped back, eyes blowing wide to the size of pennies. “D-Dream?”

Grian froze.

“Wait no, I-I’m really sorry, I swear. I-I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it- I swear!”  
Tommy started fumbling with the straps on his chestplate, clumsily but quickly stripping his body of armour.  
He tossed it on the rough stone ground between them, emptying out the contents of his pockets and even his coat as he mumbled terrified apologies.   
“I-I’m really sorry Dream, I didn’t mean it, you know I didn’t mean it, I-“ Tommy flinched back, letting out a cry as he threw himself into the corner with his hands up to protect his face.

Grian bolted towards him. “Tommy? Tommy, it’s me. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re not in the DreamSMP any more, you’re in Hermitcraft. Tommy, it’s me. It’s Grian. Dream isn’t here. He can’t hurt you.”

Eventually Tommy looked up at him, his eyes glossy from tears. “G-Grian?” he stuttered out.   
His lip trembled, and he threw himself at Grian.

The older man let him cry into his shoulder.

He still wondered what Dream had done, what had happened in the DreamSMP that caused Tommy to act this way.

That was a question for tomorrow.


End file.
